Little Brother
by LonelyD
Summary: Jaime used to love his sister. / Deathfic, Pre-AGOT and Post-ADWD.


Fandom : A Song of Ice and Fire.

Disclaimer : The caracters aren't mine, they are G. R. R. Martin's property et the tv show is David Benioff and D. B. Weiss's creation.

Pairing : Cersei/Jaime.

Rating : T.

Genre : Romance/Drama.

Note : I do believe Cersei and Jaime are doomed lovers and that it'll end up in a massacre. Cersei believes Tyrion is the _Valonqar_ , but she's not very good at guessing. I think it could be Jaime. Most of the story is set up before AGOT.

* * *

"Look, we are the same" she says as she points to the mirror.

Jaime does agree with her. They have the same long shining blond hair, piercing green eyes and charming traits. They are so alike that they can exchange their clothes right under the nose of the whole Casterly without anybody noticing it. They have got a lot of fun about this.

It has something comforting wearing a dress though. Jaime likes being all enclosed in those soft frabric. Yet dancing and singing feel boring to him. He'd rather have his sword in his hand than a harp which would break under his fingers.

He'd like to tell Cersei that he'd prefer stop that game and devote himself to his sword practise but Cersei likes to train it too. He doesn't want to hurt her even if he knows that someday they will change and it'll be easier to differentiate them. Cersei will see her breasts swell and Jaime his beard grow. And one day, they will have different paths.

That's what Father keeps saying.

"Well, not exactly" Jaime replies. "What's between our legs isn't quite the same."

Cersei raises an eyebrow, annoyed, and wispers a little "come on". She slowly lifts her skirt above her hips.

Jaime doesn't look elsewhere. He has seen Cersei's naked body a hundred times.

"Yours is longer, mine is shorter, I've one more hole, that's all right, but your body and mine complement each others and you know that."

That is the truth. Jaime has always known Cersei's body as his own. They were molded from the same shape and flesh.

Cersei leads his hand between her legs. It is sweet and warm down there.

Touching Cersei's body is like touching his own. It feels safe and secure.

* * *

Cersei has laid her hands on his cock, her lips on his mouth. He has never been able to think quite straight in those situations. She has figured this out quickly.

But he feels complete again, he feels at home again.

He forgets his Father's proud word and how much he'd been glad to become a knight. He forgets Lysa whom he ignored during his journey in Riverrun – Bryden Tully was to much of a distraction. He forgets all of his promises and lets himself drown into Cersei gorgeous kisses.

Her scent flows all over him. Her fingers covers parts of his body he has no knowledge of before.

He speaks her name in vague mumbles, his mind going numb.

"Stay with me, brother. Don't let me. Don't ever let me."

He knows exactly at this moment that he won't. He can't let her alone in King's Landing, waiting for a wedding which will never be.

He has to be with her. His place in this world is by her side.

* * *

He didn't see that coming – the _wedding_. One day he killed the Mad King, the next day Cersei became Queen.

The King pardonned him and he won't forget that – nor he won't ever forget why he's now known as the Kingslayer – but the hatred comes quickly for the man. He's a great fighter indeed and quite popular, but he doesn't quite like how Robert Baratheon treats his sister.

It does not take long to Cersei to flee the man's bedchamber. On night she comes to his arms, crying, babbling about her monstrous husband who rapes her and despises her. She asks him to kill the King, but that time he can't.

He has to watch and do nothing. It kills him.

* * *

He's angry. Robert is no near to be by Cersei's side, in the room where she's giving birth to the child that will be the royal heir. The King has made him promised to keep the Queen in good hands. Jaime has never needed Robert's advices to do that the right way.

He's angry and relieved at the same time. He prefers to know that Robert's filthy hands are far away from Cersei and the child.

She said Robert isn't the father and Jaime trusts her but that doesn't change one thing. Jaime won't ever be seen as the father.

Sometimes he'd like to protest and sometimes that's what he does. He doesn't like the fact that Robert lies beside Cersei's naked body. He doesn't like the fact that Robert forces himself on her and humiliates her all day long.

He told Cersei about it, multiple times, but she shushes him when he talks about giving up the throne, giving up her crown and King's Landing and going back to Casterly Rock where everything was easier.

"Stop this nonsense, Jaime," she constantly repeats. "You need to grow up. We've responsabilities and priorities."

Jaime is aware of that, but he only needs his sword in his hand, Cersei's cunt in the other one. Cersei and him finally grow more different than he'd have ever expected. Cersei couldn't hold a sword and had learned to like wearing a golden crown on her beautiful head. He can't blame her for that.

Maybe that's better that way. He doesn't think he'd make a great father anyways.

"Jaime" Cersei murmurs his name, crushing his hand in her fingers. "Don't let me down. Not now."

"I won't" he says. She needs him more than ever.

"I love you, brother. You know that" she breaths in his ear.

She sweats and there're tears in her eyes. She's about to give birth now. She'd been waiting for the child for a day.

Their mother died in childbirth. She has not forgotten that – Tyrion reminds her of that every day.

"I know, I love you too, sweet sister."

He doesn't need to reassure her. She wouldn't like it. She wouldn't want it.

She just needs him by her side and he's glad to be there.

* * *

"Little brother" she mutters as her hand slides along his face.

He shudders as she smiles. It could have been as that's ever been. It's not though. Jaime knows the truth, too many truths. He's fed up with her lies and manipulative words.

He knows for all those men. He knows she's part of King's Landing destruction. He knows she has never loved anybody but herself.

And he feels nothing but hatred now for that woman he once loved more than anything. She'd been his and he was hers – he will forever be hers. His whole life has been revolving around her, all of his decisions had been made because of her. He won't obey her anymore.

He shouldn't have come near King's Landing, with Westeros burning and bleeding under a kings' fight.

But it's too late to step back.

He drops his sword to the floor and reaches her gentle neck with his golden hand. He can't sense her skin and that's better that way. His other hand – made of flesh and bones that one – joins the strangle and Cersei starts to grasp.

He hears his name in her cries and feels her heart beating against his chest. That won't stop him.

They could have been happy, the two of them, but it wasn't enough for her and now he has to stop the rotting of his other self before he dies.

He hates her, he hates her so very much, his sweet, _sweet_ sister. But he'll mourn till the very end.


End file.
